


Mortal Coil

by Choke-a-Bro (Vanya_Deyja)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:07:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22171531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanya_Deyja/pseuds/Choke-a-Bro
Summary: Verstael is developing a new strategy for managing the Scourge when it flexes out of control in Ardyn. Interestingly the Scourge seems quite particular.
Relationships: Verstael Besithia/Ardyn Izunia
Comments: 10
Kudos: 85





	Mortal Coil

It’s honestly been a shit day. Verstael always expects something to go wrong but he hadn’t anticipated _everything_ would go wrong. There were too many daemons on the mountain. Now they’re down two assistants, four MTs and Verstael is stuck, in a cave, with a Scourge addled Ardyn. Verstael groans, rubbing his face with his gloves, and considers their conundrum.

He’s got a rifle but they’re running low on ammunition. He’s got a fire to keep him warm but eventually he’ll run out of wood and, at some stage, he has to start heading back towards base on foot. He’s not sure that’s a trip he can make with their limited supplies. There’s a possibility he could send Ardyn ahead and then the Lucian could return for him. Ardyn can survive subzero and doesn’t need to eat or sleep after all but…

Ardyn watches him over the fire. He’s remained fairly stationary the last hour but despite the lull in activity he’s still twitching with Scourge and dripping inchor sluggishly. The daemon fighting triggered him. He’s still building his full strength. Verstael has hoped giving him some time, some quiet, would lure him back to the surface but Adagium continues to rumble at him in garbled Lucian.

They’re running out of time and options. Verstael needs Ardyn right now, the conversational one, and if Ardyn won’t come back to the surface himself Verstael might need to drag him back up before he drowns.

Ardyn did slaughter Verstael’s second assistant when they got too close but the Scourge hasn’t shown any aggression towards him personally. Ardyn knows Verstael and their weird, parasitic, trust of each other keeps Verstael safe in otherwise hostile environments. Ardyn’s not going to pounce on him and infect him. That said Ardyn’s not coming back of his own accord either…

Verstael scours his mind. What can he do? He’s heard it said that Lucis Caelums aren’t ever all human but ‘ _mortal actions bind them to the mortal sphere_ ’ for a while. Whatever that means. Verstael considers it a little longer.

He knows getting aggressive will only escalate things. He can’t snap Ardyn out of this with a slap. Anything big enough to even register as an attack would come across as a declaration of war and Verstael has no chance of winning the fight if Ardyn snaps back. Waiting has yielded no results either so that’s off the table. He doesn’t exactly have any food or liquor to tempt his ancient monster with.

He needs Ardyn to feel human. He needs Ardyn to relinquish his fighting stance and come back to a more playful, mundane, frame of mind. He…

He has _one_ idea.

As ideas go it’s pretty shit but it’d be pretty fascinating if it worked.

Ardyn could also rip his head off. So there’s that.

Verstael pulls his beanie off. It’s fucking frigid in here, even with the fire, but he needs Ardyn to recognise him. He takes his gloves off next and leaves them in a dry pile before the fire. Standing up he pats off a little dust and rounds the fire. Ardyn watches him, head tilted, but its hard to follow his eyes exactly when they’re that black.

“If you kill me we’re decidedly not friends anymore,” Verstael jokes tartly as he approaches, telegraphing every motion.

Ardyn doesn’t move away or rile but he does rumble quietly up at Verstael in distorted Lucian. Whatever that means.

Verstael starts to sink down and, to his relief, Ardyn lets him. Verstael coils in the monster’s lap, still smaller even with all his winter gear, and settles just for a moment to get a read of the situation. Ardyn lets him sit, doesn’t jerk or hiss, because apparently Verstael is friend, not food. Which is great. Verstael is so glad they’ve established an understanding which extends to Scourge rages.

This next part is going to be equal parts tricky and gross.

Verstael reaches up, bare hand sliding over Ardyn’s stained cheek into his thick hair. Ardyn rumbles, more curious than angry which is good, but he’s still dripping inchor and that’s… ugh, Verstael does not want to freeze to death in a cave six feet away from an ancient terror who could save him if he just got over this. He pushes through the discomfort and tries to continue.

He presses their foreheads together, pulling Ardyn down just a fraction. He hesitates, just for a second, when he thinks Ardyn is growling but actually that might be a purr? It’s hard to say but, yeah, that sounds like a good sound. Verstael decides it’s now or never. Closing the gap Verstael presses their mouths together.

Ardyn is a total flirt. He’ll hit on anything. Apparently all that time in a pit made him less reserved with his dick. That said Verstael and Ardyn have always maintained a respectful distance. It’s not that Verstael doesn’t find Ardyn attractive but such an obscene coupling has layers of complication and they’ve got a job to do. So, yeah… this isn’t at all how he imagined kissing the Lucian.

Ardyn doesn’t react for a moment as Verstael’s lips work against him but then his mouth starts to twitch and his arms slink around the blonde tightly. They’re not aggressive or rough. Ardyn just presses him closer and pushes into the kiss. 

Verstael maintains the motion. He’s not sticking his tongue in that inky mouth, he tells himself, but then Ardyn’s tongue slips into his mouth and—Ugh, okay, fine. Verstael sucks, curling his own tongue, and mercifully Ardyn just tastes of heat and spit. Ardyn purrs again but the sound is clearer, less distorted, and Verstael eases back gently to get a sense of his progress.

Ardyn’s a little stained with inchor but clear, golden, eyes blink back at Verstael.

“Well, don’t just stop now,” Ardyn teases, evidently totally back with him.

“Ugh,” Verstael huffs, shoving the Lucian back and climbing out of his lap. “Go get help you cretin.”

“You get me all worked up—” Ardyn starts to fuss dramatically.

“I’m freezing to death!” Verstael snaps.

“Oh alright,” Ardyn sighs, like Verstael’s being wholly unreasonable.

Verstael’s kind of surprised that worked honestly.

* * *

Verstael doesn’t get another opportunity to further investigate his new theory of Scourge control until several months later. Ardyn looses himself on some Lucians who sneak into the facility and is still growling and hissing even when the Lucians are dead. He can’t seem to compute all the enemy combatants are gone. That or he just wants to keep fighting.

Verstael is crouched behind a workbench, rifle in hand, his assistant Narris trembling beside him.

Might as well test the theory, hmm?

“Narris,” he grunts, “we need to soothe Adagium.”

“How?” Narris flinches as Ardyn tugs another work bench up from its bolting rig with a growl.

“You and the idiot have fucked, yes?” Verstael checks through his mental roster of Ardyn’s conquests.

“Once,” Narris admits, “what does that have to do with anything?”

“Seems seduction is one way to quell the Scourge,” Verstael remarks, “see if he’ll let you touch him.”

“Sir, with all due respect—” Narris starts to argue, bone white.

“That was an order, not a request.” Verstael grunts coolly.

Narris swallows.

“Better give me your weapon,” Verstael offers his hand. “Don’t want Adagium thinking you’re a combatant.”

“R-right…” Narris surrenders his rifle, shuffling up onto his feet. He’s shaking like a leaf.

Verstael watches, peeking over the table, as Narris approaches Ardyn. The Lucian jerks towards him, growling, and Narris freezes. When the sound trails off, Ardyn’s shoulders eases ever so slightly, Narris creeps a little closer.

Ardyn’s always flirting with Narris. He’ll be fine.

Interesting data if he’s _not_ though…

Verstael watches Narris close the gap. He’s trembling the whole time but Ardyn does let the Niff kiss him. Narris pushes up into his toes, kissing, but Ardyn doesn’t respond. There’s a moment where Ardyn shifts from permissive to bored and—

 _Snap_.

Verstael winces. That was definitely Narris’ neck. Damn.

Ardyn exhibits no change, tossing the corpse away from him till it bends over itself uncomfortably, sliding down the far wall. Verstael groans. He’s going to have to clean that up.

Okay, Plan B. 

Maybe he should lock Ardyn in here for a while?

Ugh, he likes this part of the lab.

Ardyn’s such a hassle, truly, but Verstael’s not trying to soothe him if there’s another option that’s less feral and life threatening. Slipping up quietly, carefully, Verstael makes a steady beeline for the exit door. He makes it halfway, almost, before Ardyn notices him.

The Lucian warps, closing the distance frighteningly fast, and pushes Verstael up against the wall. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to assert himself. Verstael freezes, going perfectly still. Ardyn rumbles, another strange sound, and tilts his head at Verstael like he’s curious. Yeah, some part of Adagium must recognise him even like this.

Unfortunately, that didn’t help Narris now did it?

Verstael doesn’t dare look away. Enemies can do all sorts of crazy things if you take your eyes of them, even for a second, and Verstael’s not that stupid. Ardyn presses up against him, big, broad and firm. Verstael lets him, intrigued, and Ardyn’s head tilts the other way like…

Like he’s waiting for Verstael to do something.

Verstael sighs exasperatedly.

“You’re ridiculous,” he groans, reaching up to grasp Ardyn’s collar and pull him down across the remaining distance.

Verstael cups his cheek, thumb sliding across his stubble, and in less than twenty seconds Ardyn’s fingers have curled in his lab coat and the Scourge is kissing down into him firmly. Verstael tries to nudge him back, just gently, but Ardyn squeezes him and runs his tongue along his bottom lip. Verstael huffs through his nose and pushes back harder.

Ardyn falls back this time, blinking dumbly at him but evidently back to his senses.

“So what?” Verstael challenges. “It only works when I do it?”

“What do you mean?” Ardyn supposes.

“You killed Narris.”

“Did I?” Ardyn glances back over his shoulder. “Bollocks. I liked Narris.”

“Evidently not _that_ much.” Verstael snorts.

“Huh…” Ardyn digests. “Strange.”

Very strange.

Verstael’s going to try not to think about that too hard.

* * *

When Yule rolls around Verstael is tired. It’s been a busy year. He’s curled in his rooms, bare toes warming by the fire, cocoa in hand when Ardyn chooses to interrupt his moment alone. Ardyn’s got his keycode. Verstael doesn’t mind ninety percent of the time but when Verstael wants to sit he wants to really _sit_.

“If you broke something just put out the fires and I’ll deal with it in the morning,” Verstael pulls his legs up under himself on the couch.

Ardyn snorts. “Nothing broken.”

So this is a social call then? Those happen. Even Ardyn gets tired sometimes and Verstael is, for all intents and purposes, pretty much the only person who knows the whole story. Ardyn doesn’t have to work and angle with him or maintain a façade. Verstael’s the copilot.

“You want a drink?” Verstael offers.

“Wouldn’t mind helping myself to your whiskey,” Arydn hums, eyeing the cabinet.

“Just use a glass this time, you fucking heathen,” Verstael snorts, nudging him with his foot.

Ardyn chuckles and sets about getting himself a glass.

Verstael is perfectly settled a few moments later. He could just drift off. Ardyn’s hand slips around his ankle, skin on skin, and Verstael glances. Ardyn meets his eyes, totally nonchalant, so Verstael finishes his cocoa as Ardyn tugs his leg out a little. Sighing Verstael rearranges himself, both legs thrown over Ardyn’s lap on the other side of the couch. He probably shouldn’t be so comfortable with an ancient super weapon of plague and destruction but Ardyn just keeps giving him reasons to reinforce his running _‘I am safe with this idiot’_ theory.

Ardyn fingers work into the funny grooves of his ankles and—Ooh, right under the arch of his foot and—

“ _Oh_ …’” Verstael groans appreciatively.

Sometimes he asks himself where Ardyn learnt these tricks but then he remembers medical science back in Ardyn’s day was mostly massaging pressure points and mixing herbs hoping for the best. Ardyn’s certainly no modern doctor but he knows some nifty tricks and Verstael sags into it.

“I’m this close to tapping out,” Verstael warns. “I’m gonna sleep like a log.”

“Hmm, perhaps I should join you?” Ardyn muses, fingers pressing just so.

“Ignoring the fact you don’t sleep,” Verstael permits, “don’t you have your own bed?”

“Just to rest,” Ardyn dodges the question, pressing into the arch where the ache is worse and coaxing it out. Verstael’s toes curls. Fucking cheater.

“What do you take me for?” Verstael snorts, trying to maintain his control.

“Warm, pleasant, company.” Ardyn answers nonchalantly.

“Ugh…” Verstael sighs, putting his mug down. “ _Fine_ , you’ve twisted my arm.”

Ardyn is a queer creature but Verstael’s learnt just to work with it. Honestly, the most annoying part is Ardyn’s sense of humour. He’s an idiot, totally stupid, but somehow he knows just the right balance to strike to make Verstael cackle. It’s _humiliating_. Verstael should not be laughing at such dumb, crude, jokes but Ardyn…

And so, tonight, Ardyn wants to lie in bed with him. It’s a strange request but he does seem to want it quite a lot and when Ardyn sets his mind to something… Well, let’s just say Verstael doesn’t have the industrial grade equipment to hold him back set up in the domestic wing.

Verstael collapses in bed a few moments later, Ardyn slumped on the other side of the mattress in his nothing but his pants, and switching off the bedside light Verstael curls up.

Verstael knows if he had to share his bed with almost anyone else he’d be irritable, downright grumpy, but it’s just Ardyn. Verstael is so annoyingly used to him.

He’s just starting to drift off when Ardyn rolls over. Verstael doesn’t perk. If Ardyn is up to something Verstael isn’t interested. To his relief all Ardyn seems to want to do is hook his arm around Verstael’s waist and bury his face in the back of Verstael’s neck. Verstael let’s himself ease a little further. Ardyn’s warm. A little warmer than human should be, like he always has a fever sort of, and he feels steady against Verstael’s back. Verstael lets him settle close. It might be odd but it’s harmless so long as Ardyn isn’t just doing this to get lucky.

Verstael knows Ardyn has a plentiful roster of conquests but Verstael doesn’t need a fuck buddy and, honestly? He would be a little offended if Ardyn ignored the greater dynamic, history and plans for a cheap fuck. So sharing his bed? Fine. Easy sex? As fascinating as it would probably be? No thanks.

Verstael falls asleep quickly. He knows Ardyn won’t do the same. The Lucian doesn’t need to sleep anymore. Verstael expects that, after a few hours, Ardyn will get bored and creep away to entertain himself for the rest of the night. He totally expects to wake up to the other side of the bed empty.

But then Verstael rolls over in the middle of the night, shifting, and stirs just enough to—

Verstael blinks groggily at the dark ceiling. What’s that sound?

Verstael glances, Ardyn still coiled against him, the pair of them warm and Verstael realises that sound? That’s Ardyn.

Ardyn’s _snoring_.

Verstael blinks a little wider. Ardyn doesn’t need to sleep but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible either. He can sleep, if he wants to badly enough, so…? Verstael is perplexed. He stares, watching Ardyn’s face across his shoulder, and wonders if something’s wrong? Ardyn has been building his strength since they rescued him at Angelgard, he gets stronger every month, but is this the side effect of a growth spurt?

Verstael twists under Ardyn’s arm, facing him, and grasping his scruff gently Verstael starts to whisper.

“Ardyn? _Ardyn._ ”

There’s the sound of a snore catching, a rumple, and then Ardyn is blinking at him groggily.

“What…?” The Lucian whispers, pulling him fractionally closer as if preparing to defend them from some incoming danger.

“You were sleeping,” Verstael whispers, a little amazed.

“Was I…?” Ardyn frowns. “Hmm…” His eyes fall shut again and he presses his forehead against Verstael’s.

“Are you alright?” Verstael frets. The last thing they need is an unstable Ardyn. The air traffic is insane around Yule and it makes orchestrating any emergency operations a nightmare because everywhere is crowded and low on supplies.

“M’fine,” Ardyn assures, sounding like he’s drifting off again. “Just comfortable.”

Verstael lies there, mystified, and strokes Ardyn’s jaw as he drifts almost immediately back to softly snoring. 

Huh, that’s….

That’s _weird_.

Verstael chews on it a little while, compiling his data, and decides this will require further investigation.

* * *

When Verstael wakes in the morning Ardyn is already awake but he hasn’t left the bed. He’s just lounging, still close, and considering the influx of peculiar data Verstael decides to start introducing some stimuli to the experiment. Time to take control. Time to test.

“You going to stay for breakfast?” Verstael offers nonchalantly. “Or are you going to make the walk of shame back to your room?”

“I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea.” Ardyn noses the back of his neck. “None of that pitch-black coffee you drink. It’s absolutely an agent of chemical warfare.”

Verstael snorts, again Ardyn knows how to make him grin.

Throwing the covers back Verstael eases out of bed and heads to the kitchenette.

Verstael has several questions. His primary priority is to discern, first and foremost, if Ardyn yet understands what he’s doing? Because Verstael’s staring to get an inkling but that’s all irrelevant if this is an act Ardyn’s putting on for some end.

Ardyn is still in little more than his pants when he joins Verstael at the kitchen table. Verstael feels the cold more readily than their resident superhuman so he’s lazily wrapped up but Ardyn gets to sit there, toned abs out. He really is annoyingly handsome when you shut him up.

Verstael sips his coffee, ankles crossed, and considers his next move. He doesn’t imagine he’ll get all the data he needs this morning but he’s investigating actively now and that’s the thing.

“I’m getting a new researcher, after Yule’s over,” Verstael slouches. “Should I send you a head shot so you can plan your pickup lines?”

“The fun is in the surprise.” Ardyn snorts but he leaves it there. Like he doesn’t want to go into it.

Inconclusive.

“Perhaps we should make the trip to Gralea,” Verstael hums. “I know we’re still developing our five year plan but I think inserting you into as powerful a position as we can secure is the best course of action overall. It’ll be easier to do that with a little socialising. Start cultivating some courtly allies.”

“Perhaps,” Ardyn sighs. There’s nothing more important to them than Ardyn’s ceaseless quest for revenge and Verstael’s dream of a powerful, safe, Niflheim for the Niffs.

“You sound unconvinced,” Verstael tilts his head.

“It’s been a long time since I had a pleasant Yule,” Ardyn shrugs vaguely. “I’d rather stay here.”

“There’s more to see in Gralea?” Verstael tempts, waiting for Ardyn to take the low hanging fruit.

“I’d rather be here.” Ardyn sips.

He side steps the low hanging fruit but it sits there, unspoken; _I’d rather be here. With you_. Verstael would think it was a trap if Ardyn weren’t so hesitant and uncomfortable about saying it. The fact he has to pull a few teeth to get there makes Verstael think he’s on to something.

Sweet fuck, the usurped king of a thousand years ago might actually have caught feelings. Real feelings. For _Verstael_.

God, what awful luck for Ardyn.

He survives two thousand years of unending round the clock torture and now he’s stuck with Verstael. That in itself should be punishment enough. Maybe Ardyn really is a masochist? Verstael laughs despite himself, letting something of his expression play across his face, fuck…

“Hmm?” Ardyn frowns, catching the expression.

“Nothing.” Verstael promises.

Verstael feels things for Ardyn too, it would be lying to say he didn’t, but that doesn’t mean he’s any sort of prize. Ardyn should get some charming, beautiful, woman who soothes his broken heart. Not a sarcastic, irritable, anti-social savant.

“Are you laughing at me?” Ardyn perks one brow, ready to start.

“No,” Verstael assures, “I’m laughing at me.”

“Well, please, do share the joke.” Ardyn presses.

“I’m weak.” Verstael sighs, putting down his coffee.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Verstael finds his feet and rounds the table, fingers sliding over Ardyn’s shoulders. “Because I’m about to ask you if you want to go back to bed.”

Ardyn takes a second, catching on, but the grin which creeps across his face is deeply satisfied and proud. He’s pleased with himself.

“Oh don’t look at me like that,” Verstael snorts. “I can rescind my offer.”

“No, don’t you dare,” Ardyn stands without letting him slip away. Verstael’s arms remain wrapped around his shoulders even as Ardyn stands to lean over him. Ardyn’s grip on his hips is firm and tugs him even closer. “I have been waiting plenty long enough.”

All without flirting, all without groping. Ardyn could’ve gotten in his pants a lot easier if he wanted to. Verstael is stubborn but he’s not stupid. The waiting is Ardyn’s own fault; he wanted to prove himself, prove he’s _serious_. Which is dangerous but, well, they’re here now so…

“You sound so put upon,” Verstael grins.

“Bed,” Ardyn nudges his hips. “ _Walk._ ”

Verstael rolls his eyes but let’s Ardyn spin him around and herd him back to the bedroom.

Verstael sends a text as they walk; informing his head assistant he won’t be at the testing bay for another few hours. Then the dressing gown, phone in his pocket, gets dumped over the chair by the door.

Ardyn climbs onto the bed and pulls him down into his arms hungrily. There’s no other word for it. Ardyn pulls, rolls, tucking Verstael under him securely and just like that, as if its totally normal, they’re kissing again. Ardyn kisses a little differently when he’s not Scourge infested at the outset. He’s keener, more passionate, but Verstael strokes through his hair and coaxes him to slow down.

Ardyn pauses, glancing down at him, like he’s about to ask if Verstael’s having second thoughts—

“I’m not going anywhere,” Verstael’s fingers tighten in his thick hair, “you don’t have to rush.”

Ardyn grins, simmering down, and returns to kissing him. He seems calmer now, savouring the taste like he wants to, and Verstael can’t really complain. He’s not sure anyone’s ever kissed him so intently. He’s had a slew of casual fuck boys who are more interested in getting their dicks wet. This… This is not that. He’s not sure what it actually is instead but, well…. He’ll deal with that later.

Ardyn’s leg slides between his and Verstael accommodates the warmth of Ardyn over him, hands smoothing down his back over his strong shoulder blades. Verstael is fucking weak for broad, strong, backs. It’s weirdly fucking hot and Ardyn? Ardyn is fucking built. Verstael is a lean, angry, little twink with too many freckles.

Ardyn’s tongue, inchor free for once, slides against his bottom lip and Verstael nips him back to demonstrate his consent. Ardyn purrs, tongue filling Verstael’s mouth, and Verstael sucks hotly as the bigger man all but fucks his mouth.

Ardyn starts tugging his top up and Verstael has to stop kissing him, just for a second, so the Lucian can pull it off him. Ardyn’s strong enough to make it happen with Verstael still totally under him. Which, again, is _hot_. What’s also hot is how much Ardyn doesn’t seem to want to detach his mouth from him.

Verstael drags his nails across Ardyn’s shoulders, arching up into him, and he’s amazed at how openly the Lucian moans for him.

Ardyn’s mouth shifts. He kisses Verstael’s jaw, bites his ear, sucks hard and fast against junction of his neck and—Oh, Verstael squirms, hand fisting in his hair and Ardyn just keeps kissing downward…

Verstael tries, weakly, to tug him back up once he realises where this is going but he’s not clear enough, quick enough, so Ardyn’s mouth wraps around his hardening nipple and—

“ _Fuck_ …” Verstael arches, hissing.

Ardyn sucks, tongue curling around the bud, and Verstael doesn’t want to admit how sensitive his stupid fucking nipples are. It’s embarrassing. So he settles for grunting;

“ _Teeth_.”

Ardyn seems to think about it for a second but then he bites, just enough to ache but nowhere near enough to cause damage and Verstael cusses. His knee, hiked up around Ardyn’s waist, starts _trembling_. He hates it. Ardyn smooths down his thigh to feel it and Verstael isn’t sure how to save face.

“They’re sensitive,” he whispers, breathless and stupidly trying to explain himself.

“Hmm,” Ardyn purrs, kissing down his ribs. “ _Perfect_.”

“Easy for you to say,” Verstael huffs, getting his leg back under control.

Ardyn nuzzles into his navel, nipping the indent of his bellybutton, murmuring; “I didn’t realise you had so many freckles…”

Verstael freckles easily. Honestly he’d have more if Niflheim wasn’t a fucking ice cube. He tries to tug Ardyn back up but with his chest between Verstael’s thighs he starts trying to strip the Niff of his pants.

“That would be easier up here,” Verstael tries to argue.

“ _Shh_ ,” Arydn shushes him pointedly, refusing to be moved.

Verstael has to contort a little so Arydn can get his pants off but the Lucian’s strong enough to hold him in various positions with seemingly little effort. Fuck, that’s hot too. Verstael is _screwed_. No wonder Ardyn gets around so much.

Ardyn settles back between his legs and Verstael wants to argue but he decides belatedly to save a little face and just bite his bottom lip when Ardyn’s hands spread his thighs wider around the Lucian. Ardyn kneads his inner thighs, mouth working against his hip bone, and Verstael doesn’t know what he’s showing off for. The war is won, Verstael’s plenty hard, but, no, evidently Ardyn’s enjoying kissing every inch of him. Ardyn nuzzles down, teeth scrapping his inner thighs and sucking—

“If you leave a _hickey_ , you absolute—” Verstael starts to argue, pushing up on his elbows.

Ardyn yanks him back down, sliding him on the bed sheets, with the two strong hands curled under his thighs and just sucks harder. Yep, definitely a hickey. Like Verstael’s some stupid teenager.

“ _Ohh_ …” Verstael tries not to arch but he’s starting to ache. “Ardyn,” he huffs weakly, “are you going to tease all day or…?”

Ardyn smacks his lips, pulling off his gnarly blue-bruised hickey smugly. Lifting his head he clarifies; “I have been waiting. I intend to enjoy this thoroughly.”

“Okay, okay, listen…” Verstael shuffles up, reaching for Ardyn’s hair.

He could say several things; explain he doesn’t have superhuman stamina like his bedfellow, assure Ardyn they’ll do this again, but he settles for a tactical maneuver aimed right at the balls.

“I have to cum around your cock.” He declares, in a low rumble. “I _need_ you to _fuck me_.”

Ardyn falters, eyes darkening, and growling surges up between his thighs to press over him again. Verstael wraps both arms around his shoulders and returns the burning kiss. Ardyn’s nails scrape up his outer thighs, along his rib cage, and Verstael thrusts his tongue into the Lucian’s mouth to get a taste of that fire and brimstone.

“Since you asked so nicely,” Ardyn exhales, a string of saliva connecting them still.

“I think there’s lube in—” Verstael starts to explain.

Ardyn flicks his wrist and a half empty bottle manifests in his hand from the armiger.

Verstael rolls his eyes.

Ardyn smirks.

“Fucking ridiculous, _trashy_ —” Verstael hiccups through a strangled sound as Ardyn has the audacity to grab his ass and lean down to bite his nipple in the same motion.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” Ardyn supposes innocently.

“Less talking, more fucking.” Verstael hisses, throwing his head back and gripping the sheets as Ardyn nibbles at his chest absently. 

Verstael feels every cell in his body shiver when, sucking one pebbled nip, Ardyn presses slickly at his hole.

“ _Fuck_.” Verstael moans. “That’s cheating.”

“But ridiculously effective,” Ardyn shrugs, licking up his chest as he slides one digit into the blonde. 

Ardyn shifts up a little, sucking hard at his neck, while he works a second finger into Verstael. Verstael’s rocking into his hand too hard to realise immediately that he’s getting another ugly, red, hickey in a much more obvious spot. Ugh, never mind, Verstael will kill him later. Right now he’ll settle for biting back every breathy sound the Lucian is working out of him.

Ardyn sits back, three fingers curling in Verstael before easing out.

“Stay just like that,” Ardyn orders, working to shuck off his pants.

Ardyn is seemingly determined they both be head-to-toe naked. Verstael kind of gets it. He wants to feel every inch of the bigger man right now and—

“ _Fuck_ ,” Verstael murmurs.

Ardyn grins.

“Up to your exacting standards?” Ardyn teases as he lathers up his cock.

“Provided you know how to use it,” Verstael snorts, fully expecting Ardyn to knock the air out of him with the strength of his hips in a few moments. 

“I’ll let you be the judge.” Ardyn offers, so fucking genteel.

Verstael wants to sass him right back but now hardly seems the time. Especially when Ardyn starts to sink into him. Verstael takes a tense breath, inhaling, and Ardyn holds his thighs steady as he inches inward.

“Alright?” Ardyn checks, disgustingly sincere.

“Yeah,” Verstael assures, palming his cock weakly to relax his tense muscles and ease the motion.

Ardyn settles, pausing, sheathed and Verstael tries to get his breathing back under control. Ardyn moves slowly, leaning down, and Verstael finds his body curling up around the Lucian instinctively. Ardyn pulls his legs to hook around the other man’s hips and Verstael’s arms don’t need any direction to coil around Ardyn’s neck.

Then they’re kissing slowly, wetly, and Verstael is simmering. He’d say he almost doesn’t notice Ardyn starting to rock his hips but that’d be a lie because Ardyn is thick and long and you’d have to be comatose not to notice a cock like that thrusting inside you, rearranging your guts. Verstael moans, fingers on Ardyn’s cheek, their faces pressed together and just lets it happen. Honestly, it’s a lot but Ardyn’s in no rush and after a few moments of slow, rhythmic, thrusting Verstael adjusts enough to enjoy the feeling of the other man bottoming out inside him.

Ardyn fucks him purposefully and, again, the Lucian makes no attempt to restrain the sounds that tumble out of him. Verstael can feel Arydn moaning around their tangled tongues. Verstael tries to hold it together a little better but Ardyn helps hold his thighs up, lifting his head to glance down at Verstael, and…

Ugh, he looks so…

Verstael let’s himself moan, lets himself admit how _amazing_ it feels, and Ardyn purrs into another deeply needy kiss. Verstael curls a steady hand in the thick, red, hair and they rock against each other, forehead to forehead, building their pace. The infuriating thing is it all comes naturally. They fit together just fine, like they’ve done this before, and Verstael knows already they’re going to do this many, many, more times…

“Ardyn…” Verstael arches, head tossing back further.

Ardyn moans hotly into his jaw and buries his face in his shoulder as he ruts into the blonde a fraction harder.

Verstael can feel tension creeping into Ardyn’s back. He’s strong. He’s close. He wants _more_.

“Give it to me,” Verstael pants into his temple.

Ardyn’s fingers dig into his skin almost too tight and the Lucian tries to lift his head—

Verstael tightens his legs around Ardyn’s hips.

“I can handle it.” He promises with certainty. “I want it. I want you.”

Ardyn sits back, rearranging them ever so slightly, and—

“ _O-oh fuck!_ ” Verstael gasps.

Verstael wants to say he knows what he’s doing but all at once Ardyn is pounding into him hard and fast. Verstael’s been plenty fucked but this? This has to be illegal in some countries. Verstael moans louder, surrendering into it, and lets it all just happen. He gives into it.

He’s sure Ardyn’s nails have bitten into his skin and he’s bleeding, just a little, but he doesn’t care. Priorities draw him to focus on the way the Lucian’s jackhammering his guts. He doesn’t even try to hold back his sounds now. There’s no point. He trusts Ardyn won’t break him but he doubts Ardyn’s ever let himself get so _feral_ with a feeble human before.

Verstael tries to arch into the thrusts, hand slipping around his cock. It’s intense but it’s Ardyn and its wanton and it’s _good_.

“Oh gods…” Verstael moans, “Yes, fuck, yes…”

Verstael is not going to egg him on with phrases like ‘harder’ because the last thing he needs is a hip replacement but—

“Ardyn,” he purrs, “A-Ardyn…”

Ardyn moans, head back, eyes closed, and seems to love the sound of his name rolling off Verstael’s slandered tongue.

“Gods, Ardyn…” Verstael maintains.

Almost, almost—

Ardyn slumps forward, hands either side of Verstael’s head, and grinds his hips forward like an animal and—

“ _Ooh—!_ " Verstael cums in a trembling, spasming, haze.

It’s impossible not to cum like a landslide, screaming, when Ardyn’s pounding into him like that.

Verstael hears Ardyn’s break before he feels him but he does _feel_ him.

Ardyn grinds forward, buried deep, and pumps what feels like way too much cum into Verstael. Fucking hell, that’s a _lot_. Verstael’s insides didn’t think they could feel any fuller.

Still Verstael endures the subtle discomfort as Ardyn sinks down like a boneless mass.

Ardyn lays atop him, managing his weight as best he can, and Verstael catches his breath while his hands card though Ardyn’s sweaty hair.

“Should…?” Ardyn rumbles, half slurring.

“Easy, easy…” Verstael encourages, trying not tense as he withdraws his cock. Then, finally, Verstael can slump like a ragdoll.

Ardyn shifts a little, against Verstael’s side rather than on top of him, head still on his clavicle and Verstael kisses his temple absently. Ardyn’s arm loops around his waist, holding him, and Verstael knows he’s leaking a sticky mess onto the sheets but he’ll deal with that later.

“What you wanted?” Verstael supposes with a deep, shaky, breath.

“Yeah,” Ardyn sighs. “Do I merit a second appointment, doctor?”

“Heh,” Verstael snorts, “if you want one, you’re welcome.”

Ardyn purrs.

“I should…” Verstael sighs, eyes closing for a second.

“One more minute,” Ardyn insists, “don’t rush…”

“Okay,” he consents, “okay…”

Verstael is absolutely the biggest idiot here. Ah well... 


End file.
